Odds and Ends
by loveretriever
Summary: Prompt challenge inspired by the Fanfic100 master prompt list on LJ. Unconnected ficlet set of 100 Angelina/Montague moments. This is a personal challenge for myself.
1. Beginnings

**Introduction:**

This is inspired by the LJ fanfic100 master prompt list.

I will post in prompt order, one prompt per chapter, but I may not follow all the LJ rules.

There is no set word length for each prompt.

The fandom is Harry Potter, the pairing is AU Angelina/Montague, and none of the 100 fics will be connected unless you so wish them to be.

* * *

Prompt: 001. Beginnings  
Word Count: 345

* * *

Books without pictures were boring. Or so Angelina thought. Until she met Montague.

"What are you doing?" a young child asked Montague, breaking his concentration.

Montague looked up. "I am reading," he said, clearly annoyed.

"What are you reading?" Angelina asked, curiosity overtaking her for a moment as she tried to peer at his book.

"I am reading Shakespeare," Montague said crossly, hoping that would shut her up and make the icky girl go away.

Angelina stuck her tongue out. "How can you read a book that doesn't have any pictures?" She couldn't believe he was actually enjoying the story.

Montague sighed and turned the page, completely ignoring her.

Angelina decided to draw up a chair and try reading with him. But every time she looked at the words, she could barely read them.

"This isn't any fun," she complained, poking his arm.

Montague rolled his eyes. "Well, it's fun to me."

Angelina scowled. "That isn't even English!" she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Shakespeare," he said in the voice of a know-it-all.

It was Angelina's turn to roll her eyes. "Do you think I read this stuff?"

Montague tutted, clicking his teeth with his tongue. "Here, I'll read this to you.

"'_Two households, both alike in dignity,_

_In fair Verona, where we lay our scene_...'"

His melodic voice droned on and on.

Angelina sat there, unusually still and quiet, completely enraptured. She didn't realize she was staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

"'_The which, if you with patient ears attend,_

_ What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.'_"

Angelina frowned. "Is that the end?"

Montague chuckled. "No, fair lady. This is just the beginning."

Angelina slapped him playfully. "Oh, you made it sound so good. Keep reading!"

"I thought you didn't like books without pictures," Montague replied slyly.

"But it's so different when you're reading it out loud!"

Montague laughed and shook his head at her.

* * *

I edited this because I felt it needed it. Word count for the prompt is the same. I hope this revision reflects my use of grammar and punctuation better than before. The one quotation mark really irked me which prompted this whole revamping. Well, sorta revamping o.O lol I will see if anyone notices which quotation mark bothered me hehe ^^


	2. Middles

Prompt: 002. Middles

Word Count: 497

* * *

Ever since Montague read _Romeo and Juliet_ to her, Angelina loved the story. She often dreamed about what Romeo and Juliet looked like. Although she imagined a tall, thin girl with porcelain skin and long, blonde hair, she often thought of Romeo as a tall, dark-haired, strong, muscular type.

Waking up one morning, Angelina realized with horror that her dream-vision of Romeo was how she saw Montague. Sticking out her tongue in disgust, Angelina tried to forget that ever happened.

Montague was her friend - a boy around her age who she saw often because their families were close. Nothing more, certainly.

Whenever Angelina saw Montague again, she couldn't help but blush a little at her silly dream. Of course Montague wasn't the Romeo type. But, the thought persisted. And she found she could not erase his similarity with Romeo from her mind. Montague laughed when she asked him to read to her again.

"Did you like a book without pictures that much?" he teased, opening the story anyway.

Angelina smiled at him and he almost dropped his book in surprise. She had a beautiful smile. Montague mentally cursed himself. Was he going mad? She was a girl who happened to be a close family friend and that was the only reason why she came to his house often.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Angelina listened with rapt attention as his soothing voice started the tale. At the part about the apothecary, Angelina said she wished the story was a happy ending, not a tragedy. Montague laughed at that and Angelina thought he was laughing at her.

'It's not funny!" she cried, quickly standing up, causing Montague to immediately stop laughing. She ran outside, tears streaking down her face.

Montague sighed. When had she become so sensitive? _Girls,_ he figured. Getting up himself, he stretched and then went in search of her.

He found her by the lake. She was sitting in the grass, bawling her eyes out. Typical girl. Montague came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried to shake him off, but he was stronger.

"Hey, you know I didn't mean that," he said in his soothing, calming voice.

Angelina's sobs gradually grew quieter. He pressed a handkerchief into her hands and she silently took it. Wiping the tears away, she looked up at him and smiled. He did not smile back, though, because her eyes were still dark, cloudy orbs on the verge of more tears.

"Now, are you ready to hear the rest? You ran out in the middle of the story," he said softly, hoping to cheer her up.

He held out his arm and she saw he was holding the book in his hand. She smiled up at him and this time, her smile reached her eyes. His heart jumped at the thought of how beautiful his Juliet would be in the future.

His Juliet. He liked the sound of that.


	3. Ends

Prompt: 003. Ends

Word Count: 276

* * *

"Do you think we'll ever end up like that?" Angelina asked on the last day before they had to go back to school.

Montague sighed. "Like what?"

"You know what I mean," Angelina scowled, becoming annoyed.

He smirked. He thought it was cute when she was scowling at him. Plus, it was fun to irritate her as he was the only one who could do it without losing her respect and friendship.

"Oh, that." He seemed lost in thought. It was his way of pushing her buttons.

Angelina silently fumed, trying to wait him out. But she was very impatient.

"Do you think we'll be like Romeo and Juliet, from the story?" she finally spat, anger burning inside of her as much as the desire to know what he thought.

Montague eyed her carefully, sure of his response, but not sure of her reaction. "Do you want us to be?"

Angelina looked at the ground.

Montague stepped closer and this time his cool fingers lifted her chin. "Do you want us to be a tragedy?"

Her wide eyes were the color of chocolate and he thought she would tear up again.

"I don't want to lose you to them!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him.

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Oh, my Angel. I don't think you could ever lose me to anyone."

She smiled against his chest. "My Romeo."

"My Juliet," he whispered, lips brushing her ear. "We will make our own ending. It will be a happy ending. Just like you always wanted."

She kissed him, knowing full well they may never have an ending together.


	4. Insides

Prompt: 004. Insides

Word Count: 220

* * *

Whenever she looked at him, she got all giddy. She felt nervous around him and her normally loud, no-nonsense voice became a timid, shy thing that nobody could hear.

When he looked at her, the cold barrier he had placed around his heart started to melt. He saw a spark in her eyes that lit up her face. He loved how she smirked and gave a half-smile that showed how many secrets she tried her best to hide from the world.

Her heart raced when she saw him staring at her. Her palms started to sweat - something that normally didn't happen to her! Her pulse quickened and she swore she stopped breathing.

His tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth when he saw her staring at him. He became self-conscious and fiddled with his tie, his buttons, even the hem of his shirt. He didn't know why her gaze made him distracted to the point where he lost ten points in Charms.

On the Pitch, she watched him like a hawk.

During a game, he silently cheered for her when she scored.

She was always happy when Slytherin beat Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

Even though they could never show these feelings, when their eyes locked, they knew how the other felt on the inside.


	5. Outsides

Prompt: 005. Outsides

Word Count: 183

* * *

The first time they met they were in rival Houses.

He decided to hate her because he liked her.

She decided to fight back because she gave as good as she got.

He liked her fire, her spirit.

She hated his arrogant demeanor, his cruelty.

He would wait for her, being the patient Slytherin.

She became paranoid, always looking over her shoulder, impatiently wanting him to attack her and get it over with.

As they got older, his attacks became cruder and more verbal.

They were both on the Quidditch teams of their respective Houses, so she found new ways to torment him.

He would touch her, curse her and whisper suggestive phrases in her ear as he passed her by.

She would outscore him on the pitch, prank him and flirt right back.

He enjoyed her flirtations, but he often wished she would smile for him.

She hated that she liked the way he made her feel so dirty and wanted.

They kept up their facade long after leaving Hogwarts. It was almost expected.

And outwardly, everyone thought they hated each other.

* * *

This was revised because I decided I needed to look over my prompts after MrsHarryfreakingPotter pointed out my mistake in Prompt 007. Days. Therefore, I decided, being a bit of a perfectionist, I should look over each prompt individually. And I did my best to maintain the same word count as before. Here's to hoping this fits the original prompt slightly better. 


	6. Hours

Prompt: 006. Hours

Word Count: 129

* * *

He carried out his Prefect duties at night, creating a routine for himself. He began to notice her routine as well. She walked out to the courtyard on her way to the kitchens.

"Johnson," he nodded curtly one night.

Surprised, she didn't move. It was the first time he had spoken to her.

He walked on without another word.

She spent more and more time in the courtyard, unsure if she had enough courage to do what she - what he - what _they_ wanted.

He finally approached her one night and cornered her against a wall. His lips met hers as the clock tower struck midnight. He smirked and disappeared before she could speak.

She held a hand to her lips, realizing all those hours hadn't been wasted.

* * *

I decided to revise this because I didn't like the initial wording. And I figured I might as well, since no first draft is perfect, after all. I hope this still fits the couple. Thanks to MrsHarryfreakingPotter for inspiring me to reread and revise. :)


	7. Days

This revision is for **MrsHarryfreakingPotter**, who so aptly pointed out my glaring mistake. Thank you, dear! :) I really do appreciate your proofreading. Without editing, writers do not improve. I hope you like this revision, since I tried my best to have the same word count as before.

* * *

Prompt: 007. Days

Word Count: 139

* * *

They traded glances in the Great Hall for breakfast.

They sat within speaking distance during their classes, always making it appear accidental.

They ran into each other too frequently for it to be a coincidence.

No one suspected anything other than Montague having it out for Angelina.

Katie and Alicia simply shook their heads and patted their friend on the back.

George and Fred used their tricks on the Slytherins with more fervor.

But whatever was going on, Angelina made sure her friends never found out.

Just as he made sure none of the circulating rumors so much as hinted at the truth.

And so the days passed and they enjoyed the fact that no one knew their secret.

A Snake and a Lioness kissing in broad daylight.

Day after day after day.

And the world was still alive.


	8. Weeks

Prompt: 008. Weeks

Word Count: 330

* * *

It was times like this when she wished the summer would speed up so it would be fall again. Fall meant school which meant being able to see him.

He often wished summer break was shorter so he could race back to see her.

She lived so far away from everyone she knew. Her house was located in a wizarding community tucked away in the country.

He lived so far away from her in one of the huge houses his family owned. Except this summer was different. This summer, he had to meet some family friends in another country. Forget being separated in Britain - now he was several countries and an ocean away from her!

She counted down the weeks until they would meet again on a calendar in green and silver markers. She sent him discreet owls once every three days, which was sociably acceptable. Her manner of writing mimicked the traditionalist style reminiscent of the old pureblood families.

He was surprised by her breeding - he didn't think it of her. But he responded in kind and he, too, had a calendar in his room that counted down the weeks until they could rendezvous in a deserted classroom.

She was bored. It was summer and she was bored. She pulled a face and went in search of something to do. Time would pass, eventually. Or so she hoped.

He found his days were busy, but his nights were lonely. Without her, he wasn't enjoying his time. He invited her to come and visit him. But by the time he had put quill to parchment, the summer weeks were waning and autumn was approaching.

Their first kiss brought back the painful memory of time spent apart. Their frantic scramble to have skin on skin contact displayed just how much they had missed each other.

And both looked forward to the long weeks of the school term and all the opportunities they would have to continue their forbidden relationship.


	9. Months

Prompt: 009. Months

Word Count: 427

* * *

September marked the beginning of the school term. On the Hogwarts Express, they snuck into an empty compartment to share a passionate, bruising kiss, complete with flailing limbs.

October was special. It was Angelina's birth month. He paid her more attention than usual and they met more frequently.

November was the start of Quidditch. They always found each other somehow. One would host and the other brought the drinks. It was their unspoken agreement, although neither could recall when this had become one of their unwritten traditions.

December was a month of gift-giving and special attention on both sides. 25 December was Christmas, after all. However, the end of the year brought winter recess, and they had to part once more.

January meant school resumed and they returned to their usual schedule. As Prefects, and later Head Boy and Head Girl, they had nightly rounds, checking the castle and grounds for wandering students. This enabled them to clear out the perfect areas for their secret meetings and provided them with an excuse to be there. Except they were never caught.

They stretched out Valentine's Day, 14 February, so it lasted a month. They left messages for each other in discreet, meaningful locations. His notes made her tear up in happiness and hers made him laugh out loud.

March was a crazy month of drinking and celebration. With the Quidditch season coming to a close, alcohol was easily found in every dorm. She met him in the Room of Requirements with a bottle or two and they enjoyed many nights together by the lake.

April usually was the month of Easter. They made promises they knew they wouldn't be able to keep beyond the safety of the castle walls.

May was Montague's birth month, the last spring month they had together. There was a hint of summer as the school term came to an end. Between final exam preparations and her responsibilities to her House, she gave herself to him as often as she could. They booked the Prefects' bathroom and used the Room of Requirements before remembering they both had access to the Quidditch Pitch and the changing rooms there.

June was the end, marking the difference between reality and dreams.

They knew they could not survive. The world was not safe.

She didn't want to wake up from this beautiful tragedy.

He didn't want to let go of his beautiful angel.

But with all the months between then and now, they both figured they'd deal with it later.

* * *

I have never claimed to be perfect, although I am a perfectionist. I corrected some errors and changed some words around. Here's to this lovely couple.


	10. Years

Prompt: 010. Years

Word Count: 340

* * *

The first time he saw her, he was eleven years old and had just stepped off the Hogwarts Express. He stared after her, watching her long legs and the way the beads in her hair clinked lightly together.

She didn't notice him until her first class, Charms. He intentionally chose a seat near her but not actually next to her.

The second time he really looked at her was when they played Quidditch. She flew with determination, long hair streaming out behind her.

He loved the way she smiled as she flew. He wished she would smile for him.

She watched him on the field, as well. She caught herself gazing at his muscles and blushed as she thought what he would look like without his shirt on. Ashamed and embarrassed by her thoughts, she concentrated on Terrence or Adrian - anyone but him.

The third time he studied her, seated across from her in the Great Hall, he found he loved the way she arched her eyebrows at the stupid Weasley twins. He loved her laugh as it carried faintly across the room. He loved the way her expressive eyes conveyed her scorn, her pleasure and her disdain.

In Potions, Snape was particularly mean and forced them all to switch partners. She ended up working with him.

For the first time, she was caught by his icy blue eyes. They held so much emotion and so much depth, she didn't realize she had stopped breathing.

"What's wrong, Johnson?" he sneered, leering down at her.

Blinking stupidly, she looked down immediately and mumbled something before going off to the Potions cabinet to pick up their supplies.

He had been unnerved by her reaction then.

Now, lying with his arms wrapped around his love, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Good morning, Angel," he whispered, kissing her neck.

She turned slightly and looked at his smiling blue eyes.

"Who'd have thought that after all these years we could be here?" she asked softly as she leaned into his touch.


	11. Red

Prompt: 011. Red

Word Count: 143

* * *

She had disappointed her family by being sorted into Gryffindor.

She didn't eat breakfast the next morning, knowing it would come for her.

Her parents usually reprimanded her for everything. She was used to being the messed up one in the family.

But now, the consequences were even greater. The cost of a potential suitor would increase and her sisters' futures were affected as well. Her family name was tainted, thanks to her. That thought alone broke her heart.

He found her outside at sunset, crying over a shredded envelope.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

She gratefully leaned against him, accepting his warmth. She was surprised to find him a comforting presence.

They stayed like that for hours, watching the dying embers as the remains of the red Howler slowly turned to ash.

* * *

More revisions. Feel free to comment on anything and everything, relevant or not. And please do take the time to point out any mistakes if you see them. :) Help, comments and critique are always appreciated. ^^


	12. Orange

Prompt: 012. Orange

Word Count: 255

* * *

Montague had no idea why he, once again, was serving detention with her.

Scratching his head, he asked, "Now, what did I do to deserve this?"

Angelina shot a scowl his way. "You changed Fred into a mousetrap!"

"Oh," Montague shrugged, before resuming his task. When he realized what Angelina had said, he turned around quickly. "Did it work?"

Angelina studied his curious expression before she shrugged in response. Montague grimaced and finished his Blast-Ended Skrewt pen.

"McGonagall got him to the Hospital Wing, so I suppose it worked..." she said, grinning mischievously when she saw he had finished his task.

Montague threw his hands up in annoyance.

"So what am I actually doing here?" he inquired, curious as to how he had been dragged into yet another one of her hare-brained schemes. Angelina gave him a smile every guy would die for.

"You just helped me. Thank you." Her eyes glimmered in the fading light. Montague groaned and cursed himself.

"You should have been a Slytherin," he spat, completely frustrated.

"Is that any way to talk?" she teased, walking over to him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, hands resting on his chest. "There," she said, brushing his hair back from his eyes.

Their eyes met and in that moment, time seemed to stop as the sky changed colors from blue to purple to pink. He couldn't say who reached for who first. All he knew was the fizzy sensation of kissing Angelina Johnson under the orange glow of sunset.


	13. Yellow

Prompt: 013. Yellow

Word Count: 186

* * *

She caught him cheating on her. He declared they were in an open relationship. She scowled and walked away, ignoring his protests.

"I don't need him," she tried to convince herself. Of course, she failed miserably. In need of a distraction, she turned to Cedric.

"Ced, do you think you could help me a moment?" she asked.

Cedric looked up from his book. "Sure, Angie."

He gave her one of his autograph-ready smiles. Angelina felt a slight flush creep up her face.

"Well, um, do you think I could find a boyfriend easily?" she asked, a bit nervous now that he was actually looking at her.

Cedric's jaw dropped in mock surprise.

"Did the famous Angelina Johnson doubt her captivating beauty and charm?" he gasped. "I think my ears deceive me!" He playfully held a hand to his forehead and dramatically 'fainted' for effect.

"You prat!" Angelina laughed, throwing a pillow at him. Smiling, she added, "Thanks, I needed that."

"Anytime," he winked.

The next morning, an owl delivered a present wrapped with yellow ribbons. She smirked. Montague could be such a Hufflepuff!

* * *

I tried to go for humor here. After playing around with sentences, words and phrases, I decided to stick with what I had initially. Although each of these prompt responses must reflect the pairing and be 100 or more words, I have given myself a self-imposed time limit as well so I can get these 100 prompts posted without driving my perfectionist self too crazy.


	14. Green

Prompt: 014. Green

Word Count: 150

* * *

It didn't take much for him to be over her.

It didn't take long for her to be through with him.

Or so they told themselves.

He was the most wanted Slytherin - handsome, powerful, rich.

She was the most beautiful girl in their year. Many boys had their eyes on her.

When she saw a blonde or brunette or redhead draped across his chest, her eyes narrowed in envy.

When he saw her flirting with another boy, showing someone else her beautiful smile and enchanting laugh, he ground his teeth in anger.

He knew she couldn't live in the world of Death Eaters and dark magic.

She knew he couldn't survive Dumbledore's world of the Order.

But somehow, outside the walls of Hogwarts, when chocolate brown met emerald green, they could hope that the new world would allow them to coexist.

Or so they dreamed.

* * *

I admit I do have an obsession with certain word counts and numbers. I played around with this prompt to make it exactly 150 words, though I don't know why.


	15. Blue

Prompt: 015. Blue

Word Count: 205

* * *

He paced, waiting for her. They were supposed to have met half an hour ago to go to the Halloween party together. Had she forgotten him?

And then he saw her. She was wearing a gorgeous white and blue dress with striped stockings and cute Mary Jane shoes. A blue headband held her straightened hair in place and her expression was beautiful.

He smiled at her and she faintly blushed, running to meet him. He pulled her into a hug and she kissed him eagerly.

She didn't need makeup and he didn't wear cologne. They were content with each other just as they were.

He admired her dress, although it didn't mean anything to him.

"May I ask what you are tonight?" His voice was soft and smooth, just like the Snake he was, as he whispered into her ear.

"I'm Alice, silly," she replied, slapping his arm. "And what are you, good sir?"

"I am King Edmund, and don't forget it," he said with bravado.

She placed both hands on his chest. "And if I do?" she teased.

"Then I shall have to remind you," he smirked, kissing her once more. "May I claim this dance, my fair Alice?"

* * *

I already stated this was AU and decided to take some liberties here (and use this chapter to claim liberties in the following prompts as well.) None of these prompt responses are connected unless you wish to link them. According to the fanfic100 rules, up to 10 stories can be connected.

Because these prompts are all short fics, well, short compared to the fic lengths I usually upload, these vignettes may seem to be less planned than normal. However, this is a personal fic challenge I have given myself so they are more brainstorming exercises. I have not forgotten my other fics. I just find that I need to go fishing for ideas haha :)


	16. Purple

Prompt: 016. Purple

Word Count: 376

* * *

He was surprised to find her crying. She was the legendary, fearsome Angelina Johnson. He sat down next to her and laid an arm around her shoulders. She threw him off and gracefully jumped up, shock and surprise mingling with the tears streaking down her beautiful face. Her big brown eyes stared down at him as her mind tried to comprehend what was happening. Before he could move, she ran off.

He growled in frustration. Why was she avoiding him? Days went by, and still she avoided his gaze. She found ways to avoid him in class and in the corridors. It wasn't until the next Quidditch match he found out why.

He glared at her as they sat on their brooms across from each other. On Madame Hooch's whistle, they raced forwards to claim the Quaffle. As usual, she got to the Quaffle first and sped away. He chased after her and slammed into her, in an attempt to knock her off her broom. Normally, she avoided him with ease. Instead of rolling over or clinging to her broom, she yelped and fell, cradling her arm to her body. He stared in horror as he realized what he had done. A second too late, he dove after her and barely managed to grab her robes before she hit the ground in a tumble of limbs.

He carried her to the Hospital Wing, ignoring her weak protests as he studied the dark bruises that covered her body.

"Who did this to you?" he hissed in her ear. But she refused to say.

Madame Pomfrey clicked her tongue as she fussed over the girl, not saying anything about the large purple bruises covering Angelina's arms and legs.

"It was Weasel, wasn't it?" he asked, when Madame Pomfrey had left the room.

She shook her head, refusing to answer. He sighed and stood up.

Her hand shot out automatically and grabbed his wrist. He turned around and sighed, looking down at her tear-stained face.

He stayed with her the whole night.

In the morning, Madame Pomfrey found them laying next to each other, both fully clothed.

Montague had wrapped his arms protectively around Angelina. Still asleep, Angelina was smiling, purple bruises and all.

* * *

Revised this, although I don't like this one as much as some of the others. Hmm, guess it's a personal thing because I'm the author xD haha


	17. Brown

Prompt: 017. Brown

Word Count: 674

* * *

It was many years and what seemed a lifetime ago since he had been a Slytherin. And yet, here he was, surrounded by fellow Slytherins in a pub. Drinks went 'round and they all toasted their survival. They were lucky to have been spared.

The war had claimed countless lives. Numerous family lines had been broken. Several of those he was seated with had been married many times over. Most of his classmates had children from their various marriages and complained about how difficult the inheritance laws had become.

At twenty-eight, Montague was an eligible bachelor, having never taken a wife. It's not that he had become celibate. No, that would be laughable. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he always felt like something was missing. He had his affairs at brothels and other nameless places where the women thrust themselves upon him.

His friends had laughed, telling him to get a life and a pretty woman and move on. Everything would get better with time. He was almost thirty - he should enjoy life while he could. Montague smiled and smirked along with them, but still he felt adrift, like he didn't belong.

He abruptly excused himself from the table and sauntered over to the counter to order a firewhiskey. A woman sitting at the counter turned when she heard him order and almost spat out her drink in shock.

"Montague?" she spluttered. "Is that really you?"

His face paled as well. "Johnson," he nodded curtly.

Angelina's face flushed slightly when she realized she was staring at him. She quickly turned around and began talking with her blond friend, Katie Bell.

Montague studied the two for awhile before he watched them slip away. He saw the blond shoot him a curious glance as the pair quit the pub. Montague stayed at the bar, drink in hand. How long he stood there, he didn't know. But at some point he must have left because he woke up in his own room with the most excruciating headache.

He made his way down to the kitchen, head reeling and mind all fuzzy as though he was still half-drunk. He paused in the doorway and did a double take. Someone was sitting at his table. Passing a hand over his eyes, he looked again and realized it was a familiar someone.

"Here," she said, voice light and low. She pressed a cup into his hands. "Drink," she ordered softly when he still didn't move.

It took their combined effort of her holding the cup and him tilting his head back before he was able to drink the liquid she was forcing on him. Once his vision cleared, he realized who it was.

"Johnson! What are you doing here?" he demanded angrily.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, using the same expression she had back in school when she was asked a stupid question.

"Excuse me?" Her voice still held those haughty tones he loved - er, used to love. He really needed to get a grip.

"I asked you what you're doing here."

She smirked. "I recall you invited me here yourself before passing out on me and my friend last night. Or do you not remember?"

He blushed, face turning bright red. "I don't, I, er," he fumbled, trying to find the right words.

She laughed and he loved hearing that sound. Memories flooded back to his mind of their days at Hogwarts. Memories he thought he had locked away during the early days of the war.

"Which do you want?" she asked, offering him a plate. "Chocolate or vanilla? You need something after that potion."

He looked down at the plate curiously before looking back at her.

"Chocolate any day," he smiled.

She laughed and placed a piece of chocolate in his mouth playfully. "There you go, love."

His eyes shot open as he felt the chocolate work its magic. Before she knew it, he was kissing her.

"Mmhm," he said licking his lips. "Chocolate."

* * *

I decided to change the rating of this collection for a few of these prompt responses.

And this, like other prompt responses, may not actually contain the prompt word. But they all will reflect their respective prompts in some way. I just try my best with what I have and what my mind comes up with.

And for the record, I have a very fickle muse, which is mostly why I like writing these short pieces.

* * *

Revised this one as well. Thought it needed a little cleaning up, although I do like this one. Personally, I think it's the play between them. But it could also be my weirdness o.o


	18. Black

Prompt: 018. Black

Word Count: 220

* * *

He remembered it like a dream. A whisper of a promise. Something that echoed in the dark of night when he couldn't sleep.

He groaned, getting up out of bed. _Not again,_ he thought, grimacing at his reflection in the washroom mirror.

He kept remembering her, the girl with dark tanned skin the color of mocha. The girl with those delightful coffee-colored eyes whose sparkling laugh used to be the highlight of his day. The girl who was his angel.

He had lost her and it had been all his fault. He remembered that day like it was yesterday.

It was his actions that caused her angelic smile to falter. His words that had made her normally confident voice fail. He had made her cry. Her long hair the color of midnight had flown in her face, wiping away the tears she shed. All because of him.

If he had the chance, he'd take it back. Anything to have her with him again.

He looked down at the Dark Mark on his arm and cursed the day he had been initiated. The black ink was a constant reminder that taunted him and threw her in his face.

Once he thought he knew what he wanted.

Now he knew it would be something he could never have again.


	19. White

Prompt: 019. White

Word Count: 256

* * *

She had always imagined a different house. A house with mahogany furniture. Sleek, imposing, giving off a Spartan air of money and the appearance that no one inhabited it. Yet here she was, standing in a very homey mansion. The white-washed walls gave off a cheery aspect she wouldn't have matched with his temperament. The antique used furniture added another touch she wouldn't have associated with him.

_Surely someone else must have chosen it?_ she thought to herself.

As she stood waiting for the house-elf to announce her presence to the master, she paused to glance at the photos and trinkets adorning the fireplace mantel and the various shelves and bookcases that were scattered around the large, spacious room.

When he appeared at the top of the staircase, she was shocked to see him wearing a loose white shirt with light beige cargo pants. She never put him down as the type to adopt Muggle fashion.

He was shocked to see her wearing a pure white dress. It flowed perfectly around her form, making a stark contrast against her dark skin and even darker hair. He knew he was gazing at her and blushed, closing his mouth firmly.

She smiled weakly up at him and in that moment he knew she was perfect.

She surprised herself when she realized she was standing next to him. His light brown hair and blue eyes added to his handsomeness and she found herself thinking that she could very well come to love him in time.


	20. Colourless

Prompt: 020. Colourless

Word Count: 258

* * *

Racism was something she encountered everywhere. Even more so because she was half and half.

"Chocolate and vanilla don't mix!" Someone yelled, pushing her to the ground.

"Who'd want scum like you?" another voice shouted, mocking her.

"Didn't anyone tell you someone of your color shouldn't be here?"

She hadn't cried in front of them, not wanting them to know how much their teasing hurt. How much their words affected her. She was stronger than that, she told herself. But even her parents' loving words couldn't ease her daily discomfort.

He found her afterwards, when everyone else had left the scene. He saw her shoulders shaking and something inside of him cracked. Before he knew what he was doing, he was hugging her and she found herself leaning into his embrace.

They stood there quietly. She used him as a pillar of support as he held up his brave angel. A mix of chocolate and vanilla. It would have been soothing had he been anyone else. And then he kissed her forehead and handed her a handkerchief.

"You are beautiful," he whispered. "Anyone is a fool if they tell you different."

She gazed up at him and realized that the world was disappearing. Colors don't matter when it comes to love. She kissed him and was pleasantly surprised when he responded with a similar passion.

"I guess I'll just have to stay with you, then," she said, feeling bold.

He smiled against her lips. "I'd like that very much."

* * *

This has undergone a slight revision. Hopefully the sentences flow better now.


	21. Friends

Prompt: 021. Friends

Word Count: 332

* * *

They both ended up in the Hospital Wing with adjacent beds.

She fussed and fumed at first, but gradually her smile became warmer and softer as she glanced over at his sleeping form more frequently.

His breathing was deep and even. It created a soothing rhythm that smoothed out the small creases around her eyes and mouth.

She wondered how he could look so peaceful. She marveled at his smile, a stark contrast to his normal scowl and look of contempt he usually bestowed on anyone stupid enough to stare at him.

She found herself dozing off and when her eyes were closed, his opened.

He studied her intently, as if he was memorizing every hair on her head. He loved the way she smiled and laughed, though he knew it would never be directed at him. He loved the way she took on challenges.

He surprised himself by dreaming about her and wishing she would face him as she slept.

A few days later, she was still in the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had said her ribs were bruised and needed more time to heal. She looked over and noticed he was gone.

"You had a visitor who left you this," Madame Pomfrey noted absentmindedly as she waddled away to take care of some paperwork.

Angelina looked down at the table next to her bed and gasped in surprise.

A single cherry blossom lay on top of a piece of parchment. Cupping the flower gingerly, she read the simple note.

"Get well soon," was written in a neat scrawl. There was no signature. She knew who had sent the note and the flower.

He looked up from the book he was reading by the lake as a small bird landed on his shoulder. He took the note from the bird's leg and smiled happily at the response.

"Thanks. I'm glad that you are well," she had written.

It was the closest sign to friendship either of them could display.


	22. Enemies

Prompt: 022. Enemies

Word Count: 271

* * *

The Ministry take over wasn't going as planned. Someone had turned traitor, as the Aurors and Order scum had been well-prepared for this assault.

"Now, remind me why we're here again in a small group taking on an army of them?" Pucey asked as they hid behind a wall.

Marcus threw up his hands and shot more curses at the Ministry lapdogs.

"Talk later. Fight now," he huffed, in between killing three blokes and stunning a fourth.

Montague took on two Aurors while Pucey and Higgs looked for an escape.

"Bombarda!" a male voice yelled, causing everyone to slide on the ground, seeking cover.

Bricks and rubble littered the floor as numerous bodies moaned. Montague sought out his teammates and was glad none of his fellow Death Eaters were seriously hurt. If it was just him against whoever had blasted their way through the now non-existent wall, he knew he wouldn't make it back alive.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure lying on the ground.

"NO!" he shouted, running over to her. He pushed the rubble and bodies away, fingers scrambling feverishly to save her from an untimely death.

At length, he pulled her out and cradled her head in his lap, pushing her hair away from her face. Even unconscious and covered in soot she was beautiful. He kissed her forehead, not sure why he had abandoned the battle.

Before common sense told him she was a part of the Order, the enemy, he protected her body instinctively as more explosions rang out in the hollow corridors.


	23. Lovers

Prompt: 023. Lovers

Word Count: 194

* * *

She kissed him fiercely as his hands wrapped around her waist.

"You should dump that red-head jerk," he murmured when she released his lips.

"Mmhmm hmm," she responded, eyes clouded by desire and lust. "Only if you get rid of that Green-whatever girl."

He pulled her body flush against his.

"Mmhm," he moaned against her neck. "But if I did that, sweets, the others would get suspicious."

"Same problem here," she said, in between kisses as she rubbed against him.

"I guess we're at a standstill then," he whispered.

"Or we can just forget them," she pouted, drawing back to study his face.

"I think that's good for today, then," she commented, easily slipping out of his grasp.

"We're not done," he growled, grabbing her arm and twisting her around.

"Oh, but baby, I think we are," she said in her flirtatious voice. She pecked him on the cheek and tried to leave once more.

"And here I thought you Gryffs were the sentimental ones," he sighed.

She smiled at him. "But, love, we're not all like that."

She gave a small wave and disappeared around a corner.


	24. Family

Prompt: 024. Family

Word Count: 373

* * *

It could be argued that fate had brought them together, for they certainly did not meet by choice.

"Come down now, dear," her mother called.

"I don't want to!" she protested.

"Angelina Lydia Johnson! You will come downstairs right now!" her mother yelled angrily.

With a huff, Angelina stomped down the stairs.

"And you will smile because you are very happy to meet him," her mother scolded her.

Angelina plastered on a huge, fake smile and muttered, "Yes, oh so happy."

"And you will call him Mr. Montague and you will be on your best behavior," her mother continued as though she hadn't spoken.

The moment they arrived at the manor, Angelina knew she wouldn't like it. It was an austere, imposing building that spoke of a cold, snobby aristocratic era. She shivered involuntarily just thinking about what type of person would live in such a colorless place.

But the moment she was introduced to the family, she realized how wrong she was.

His blazing hazel eyes were full of emotion and feeling. She was stunned at how formal and cordial he was acting after their year at Hogwarts together. Taking his lead, she mimicked his mannerisms and soon they were left on their own to wander the garden paths on his family's land.

They didn't talk for some time as it didn't seem necessary. Each was content with his or her own thoughts.

At last, they reached the lake and Angelina smiled. It was such a beautiful sight.

He stared at her and smiled as well.

"I take it you like the view," he smirked, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Angelina gulped and nodded, unable to take her eyes away from the breathtaking sunset.

"You and your family are very lucky," she said, making sure to keep her phrases couched in the proper manner.

He shrugged his robe off and lay on the ground. "You don't have to be so formal out here," he responded.

She nodded and kicked her shoes off, enjoying the feel of the grass on her bare feet.

They watched the stars together until they both dropped off to sleep.

Their parents found them later, lying next to each other fully clothed.


	25. Strangers

Prompt: 025. Strangers

Word Count: 210

* * *

It had been a few years since she had last dated. Most of her relationships had been sour affairs that always ended with broken hearts. She assumed she had had bad luck so far, so she decided to cut her losses and stop frequenting the dating scene. Her friends understood her decision, although they kept trying to set her up on blind dates regardless of how many times she had declined.

He had never gone steady with a girl in his life. Girls came to him for a shag, and then they left. It's all he had come to expect from them.

Each time he took one to a room, he imagined she was dark skinned with long, dark hair that curled down her back. He imagined he was shagging a long-legged beauty instead of whatever blond or red-head was physically underneath him.

Angelina often imagined she was with a tall, dark haired man with piercing green eyes and the physique of a Quidditch star.

He knew his dream girl was out of his league.

She knew her dream guy was a player.

Even though the fantasies were never enough, they kept on pretending the strangers they spent the night with were really the one they loved.


	26. Teammates

Prompt: 026. Teammates

Word Count: 405

* * *

When they first met, she couldn't believe it was him. He looked so different from the sinister, disdainful bully she remembered as the Slytherin team's Quidditch Captain.

When he first laid eyes on her, he did a double take. Was this long-haired beauty the same woman he once had knocked off her broom?

"Montague," she nodded coolly, shaking his hand a bit reluctantly.

"Johnson," he replied in the same grim manner. He held her hand a bit longer than she would have liked, and only let go when she stared pointedly down at their intertwined fingers.

Angelina thought she would kill someone when the Order decided to split the younger members up into pairs for their safety. Montague grinned happily when she matched her number to his.

Grudgingly, they worked together on small missions and over time, she came to see a different man. A man who was passionate about life.

As they scouted potential Death Eater targets, Montague learned that Angelina Johnson was a woman with a fiery temperament and fierce determination - the same determination he recalled from their days playing Quidditch.

"Who'd have thought we'd be here?" he asked one night, sarcasm dripping in every word. He took a swig of butterbeer as they sat keeping watch together.

Angelina swiped some butterbeer for herself, startling him with her agility. "I know, right? If you had told me years ago that I'd be sitting next to a Slytherin, I wouldn't believe it, either."

"Hear, hear! I never knew Gryffs could be all right mates, ya know?" His voice became softer as he drank more.

"Well, I never thought a slippery Snake would make a good guy," she teased, leaning against him.

He scratched his chin absently. "Hmm, sometimes we do. Self-preservation and all that." He winked. "Gotta keep up the pretense, at least."

They shared a laugh and then abruptly stopped when they realized they were staring into each others eyes.

"Uh, right," Angelina cleared her throat, blushing a little. "Well, goodnight, Montague." She hurriedly stood, rearranging her skirt out of nervousness.

"Graham. Call me Graham," he insisted.

"Goodnight, Graham."

"Goodnight, Ang."

"Ang," she said thoughtfully, standing in the doorway. "I like it."

"So do I, sweetheart, so do I," he smiled at her.

For the first time, the two appreciated being paired together. Of course, it was only for the Order. A convenient excuse, indeed.

* * *

I'm not a big fan of calling him Graham Montague, to be honest. But, I don't like the alternatives I came up with. Either they're already used by other people or they just don't seem to fit. Although I might use them in later responses or other responses since I love this pairing so much! But I do like the name Graham in its own right.

The alternative names that came to my mind that I haven't seen other people use (as far as I've read - so no offense if you or someone you know used one of these) are:  
- Ivan  
- Daniel  
- Erik


	27. Parents

Prompt: 027. Parents

Word Count: 150

* * *

"We are having children," she called out, rubbing her stomach.

A loud crash resonated throughout the spacious mansion. Startled, she jumped as he ran into the room looking quite disheveled. His crazy eyes belied his panicked state.

"No, we certainly are not having children!" he spat vehemently.

She stood up, glaring at him. "Yes we are!"

"No, we're not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!" He paused momentarily, face livid. "And how is that even possible? I've been using the contraception charm each night!"

She smirked and kissed him unexpectedly. "April Fool's!"

"Oh, you evil, evil woman!" he grinned, eyes flashing.

"You know you love me," she murmured, resting her hands on his chest.

"I do love you. Especially when I get to do this!"

He mercilessly tickled her until she was gasping for breath.

"I concede! You win! Get off!" she yelped, enjoying the moment, tickles and all.

* * *

Even though the genre for this prompt set is Romance/Drama, I thought the lovely pair needed some humor :)

Too bad I can't put a third genre. *sigh*


	28. Children

Prompt: 028. Children

Word Count: 464

* * *

Neither Angelina nor Montague could recall what had started it all.

Angelina believed it was Fred and George's cauldron that had boiled over.

Montague wished to think it was Warrington's comment about partnering with Alicia for a change.

Whatever it was, a fight had erupted and potion ingredients flew back and forth between the two sides. Angelina and Montague were the only two who hadn't participated and they had been blamed for it.

Outraged, she sat silently, waiting for Snape to return.

Fuming to himself, Montague eyed her warily in case she decided to turn on him in frustration.

Snape finally returned from the Hospital Wing and gave them both detention before letting them leave only after he gave them a long lecture on proper behavior and how ashamed he was to think they were Head Boy and Head Girl of their respective Houses.

"Children!" Snape scowled, pressing a hand to his forehead once the dungeon door had slammed shut.

"Well, if you weren't so hard on them all, they might have reacted differently," a female voice wafted down to his ears.

Snape's mouth became a thin line. "Minerva, what are you of all people doing here?"

Minerva McGonagall pouted, a quite unusual expression for the normally stern Deputy. "I heard about the detentions."

"Ah, come to lecture me, have you? As you can see, I am in no mood for an argument at the moment. Come back later," he snarled.

"Actually, Severus, I came here to say I think you are quite right to hand out detention. And I'm taking an extra ten points from Gryffindor - my lions were the first to throw potion ingredients."

Severus's jaw dropped open in surprise.

"Before you ask," she held up a hand, stopping his voice, "I hope you won't keep the two from playing Quidditch. I was looking forward to watching the Captains play. Besides, if you don't, I'll win our little bet."

Snape fumed. He had forgotten about their bet!

"Fine!" he conceded. "I will schedule their detention times for tonight so it won't interfere with the Saturday match. Anything else your humble servant can do?" He glared at her, as if daring her to challenge him.

"Great! I'll inform Miss Johnson." Minerva smiled politely and left as quickly as she had appeared.

Snape sighed and stalked off to find Montague. Even though she hadn't yelled at him, he still felt as though he had lost out on another deal. Why did she always make him feel like he was a first year again? He gritted his teeth as unpleasant memories came to mind. He did his best to banish them while calmly informing Mr. Montague he would serve detention that night.

* * *

I couldn't resist throwing in my other favorite pair, Severus and Minerva. hehe :) Hope no one minds my own whims. ^^


	29. Birth

Prompt: 029. Birth

Word Count: 205

* * *

Their arranged marriage had been planned since their first introduction to the world.

She was from a pureblood family of honorable standing and a good name. Her family was wealthy in their own right as her father owned several companies.

He came from an old family - a long line of wealthy Slytherins who mostly dealt with investments.

Her family had wanted the marriage for his pureblood status and Slytherin connections.

His family wanted the marriage to increase their financial holdings and to stabilize the line. His ancestors were known practitioners of dark magic.

Neither knew of the arranged marriage for many years, although they had played together since they were three years old. They were informed about the marriage when they were ten, just before they were getting ready to go off to Hogwarts. It was expected that they would both be Slytherins.

It wasn't quite exactly how their parents had envisioned it.

A Slytherin-Gryffindor wedding hit the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.

Luna Lovegood was kind enough to include a picture of the lovebirds in a section of the _Quibbler_.

Johnson kissed her Montague and they laughed. The world was all right.

And fate wouldn't have it any other way.


	30. Death

Prompt: 030. Death

Word Count: 170

* * *

She always knew his Mark would be his demise.

He knew she would fight for what was right. She would defend those who were helpless.

She knew he would try to survive. If he died, he was protecting her.

He always told her how beautiful she was as he kissed her feverishly. He never knew if the Dark Lord would become displeased with him.

She hung on to him so tightly he thought he would never draw breath again. She feared each time he left he would never return.

He promised her to be with her always and forever.

She promised that he would be in her heart eternally.

They gave themselves to each other body and soul.

Who'd have thought the sides they represented would turn on them?

No one thought Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was capable of killing his Captain.

No one suspected the Dark Lord would kill his second lieutenant.

They died in each others arms as the two sides came to a standstill.

* * *

After writing these prompts, I realize I don't always explicitly use their names. I suppose they could be any pair if you wish it, but for my personal purposes the main pairing is Angelina/Montague. Just making that clear from my perspective. :)

But feel free to envision other characters if they fit for you. xD


	31. Sunrise

Prompt: 031. Sunrise

Word Count: 147

* * *

He woke up just as the first rays of light were crossing the horizon.

She opened her eyes to a bright promise of good weather.

He took a cold shower to wake up and clear his mind from the previous night.

She took a warm shower to loosen up her muscles in preparation for the game.

He looked forward to breakfast because she would be there.

She couldn't eat anything. Instead, she snuck glances his way as surreptitiously as she could.

He shook her hand on the pitch, never wanting to let go.

She calmly looked into his deep sapphire eyes and was lost, never wanting to look away.

The game was fierce as the two Captains played against each other.

No one caught the mischievous glances and the taunts they threw at each other.

It was their special secret at sunrise. One they shared together.


	32. Sunset

Prompt: 032. Sunset

Word Count: 300

* * *

After dinner, Angelina walked down to the dungeons. She shivered, pulling her robe closer about her body. The temperature drop always surprised her, especially when it was nighttime.

"What's a little goody-goody Gryff like you doing down here?" a low voice taunted.

Closing her eyes, Angelina inhaled sharply before saying, "As much as I would love a civil conversation, I have a detention to get to."

"Ah, so a not-so-goody-goody Gryff, eh?" he mused, circling her like a hawk.

She stopped walking and sighed, pressing her fingers to her eyes. "Mont, as much as I'd love to talk to you, I really don't have the time right now." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Montague frowned slightly before a smirk overtook his aristocratic features. "Fine, I'll let you pass - if you call me by my name."

She scowled and remained silent as she tried to edge past him. He blocked her easily, making her eyes flash dangerously.

"Don't test me, Montague!" she warned, backing up.

"Aw, come on, Ang, you can say it," he prodded her.

She ground her teeth in frustration. "Graham!" she yelled, exasperated.

"Now, now, pumpkin. You know better," he chided.

She pouted before letting out a breath. "Graham," she said, her voice and expression much softer. She reminded him of the girl he had once loved and before he knew it, he leaned over and kissed her.

"That wasn't part of the deal!" she protested. He stuck his tongue out at her and disappeared.

"Miss Johnson!" Snape hissed. "You're late."

Angelina rolled her eyes as he deducted additional points from Gryffindor for her tardiness. She wished for once she was in Slytherin so she wouldn't have to spend more quality time with Snape after sunset.


	33. Too Much

Prompt: 033. Too Much

Word Count: 350

* * *

Angelina was supposed to have her happy ending with Fred Weasley. Except Fred was dead - killed by Dolohov in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts castle.

She was supposed to marry George. But he ended up proposing to Alicia.

Lee had always been in love with her. And yet now, Lee and Katie were tying the knot.

Angelina turned to Oliver, but he and Flint were together. Oliver's secret was out and the tabloids were eating it up eagerly. Oliver's celebrity status increased, despite the abundance of anti-gay sentiments that pervaded both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.

She was running out of people to turn to. Certainly she couldn't see the Weasleys or Harry, who was married to Ginny.

She decided to solve the problem by drinking in a pub by herself.

About halfway through the night, someone came and sat down opposite her. She didn't even acknowledge the person. Just grunted into her umpteenth firewhiskey shot.

"Hello," a male voice said tentatively as he took a swig of brandy.

She burped in a very unladylike fashion and replied, "Er, 'ello. Sorry I'm a tad unsteady." She giggled, looking up at him through blurry eyes.

He laughed and asked, "You, too?" He didn't expect an answer. It was a rhetorical question.

"Cheers," she responded, raising her shot glass.

He raised his eyebrow and silently lifted his bottle to her glass. The soft chink as they met created a spark and somehow the air became stifling. She forgot to breathe. He forgot his troubles.

Memories flooded back to her and she found herself unable to deal with the ramifications of the war and the consequences of her friends pairing up without her.

He remembered the war and how he had to go into hiding. How he was still technically in hiding while waiting for his pardon to be processed.

It was all too much for her brain to comprehend. Setting her glass down, she tugged his arm and motioned upstairs. He followed her, understanding that she needed something more physical to get through the night.

* * *

Yes, this response has some non-AU components to it. But overall, this collection set is most definitely AU. At the very best, it's a 'possibly could have happened' rather than canon-compliant or whole 'nother world AU. Although certainly elements of each appear here and there. The intent is to leave the majority of previous or following actions for the reader to decide.

None of these prompt responses need to be connected, although they can be if you wish them to be as they are based around the same pairing. Of course, as they are written in prompt order, the connections, if any, are left for the reader to find. :P teehee


	34. Not Enough

Prompt: 034. Not Enough

Word Count: 260

* * *

He saw a flash of red and pain hit him like never before. His nerves tingled continuously. Unable to hear, he never knew the raucous sounds were his screams as his body buckled under the string of curses the Dark Lord cast.

His mind wandered and he found himself in a field surrounded by rolling hills. A young girl was chasing fairies and playing with flowers.

Confused, he looked around with wonder. He thought he had been in a dungeon cell, and yet here he was in an open field behind an imposing house. He was surrounded on all sides by freedom. He broke into a grin that made him look much younger.

The girl looked up at that moment and waved, a beautiful smile gracing her features.

"Come and play, Graham!" she called out.

He was startled that she knew his name. He gulped before advancing towards her.

She giggled and started weaving blades of grass together. "Come on, Graham. You said you'd play with me today." She put on her best pout face that made her look like the cutest girl in the world.

His heart melted and he sat down next to her. He watched her make grass bracelet chains.

"You're going to need this," she said, pressing her grass chain into his hands. "Go!"

Before he knew it, she was pushing him backwards and he awoke on the cold, earthen ground of his small holding cell.

He remembered everything about her. And now, many years later, the memories alone were not enough for him.


	35. Sixth Sense

Prompt: 035. Sixth Sense

Word Count: 745

* * *

Montague took another drag from his cigarette, cursing his luck. He was stuck with Pucey and Higgs because Bletchley and Derrick had to get themselves killed over some Muggle whorehouse.

Pucey and Higgs wanted nothing more than a good drink while Montague just wanted their patrol to be over so he could get back to his nice warm tent.

Finally done for the night, the three Death Eaters started to head back to camp when they heard a scream and saw a flash of light.

"Oy!" Pucey yelled, running headfirst into the alleyway, Higgs not far behind him. Montague scowled before ducking down the alley, too.

A group of snatchers were casting spells freely, dragging unconscious women after them. The snatchers laughed at their prey as they hauled the knocked out women into a boarded up building.

"Put 'em here, for now," the leader ordered. "Get the others."

The snatchers didn't get too far before Pucey and Higgs started firing curses.

"You lot! What do you think you're doing here on Death Eater territory?" Higgs called out, killing two of the bodyguards.

Montague snorted as he used _Crucio_ on several snatchers.

"Tell us what gives you the right to walk around here like you own this town," Adrian threatened, severing several limbs in a bored manner.

With just the leader left, Montague stunned him and banished him without blinking his eyes. Higgs went about reviving the unconscious women while Pucey sorted out the dead bodies. Montague scouted the building, making sure there were no other snatchers in the vicinity.

"Clear," Montague drawled as he returned.

Higgs and Pucey had sorted out the women and of the twenty-odd survivors, four remained lying on the ground. Montague lazily waved his wand over each one, casting a diagnosis spell. He healed them one by one as Pucey and Higgs watched his back.

"Remind me why I have to do all the Healing work," Montague scoffed as the last woman's cuts slowly disappeared.

"Because you have the best Charm work," Pucey replied.

"Because you can cast diagnostic spells," Higgs said, almost simultaneously.

Montague rolled his eyes and then did a double take. The last woman reminded him of someone familiar. He knew he had seen her before.

"Hey, Pucey, look at this one," he called out, forgetting his momentary annoyance with the two idiots. "D'ya reckon you remember this one?"

Montague pointed his shoe towards the dark-skinned lady who was the only girl left. The other three, having been healed, had Apparated away with Higgs' help.

Higgs returned a split second later with a small crack. "What did I miss?" he asked in his jovial voice.

"Look at this one - remember her?" Pucey grinned pointing down.

Higgs looked down and was shocked. "Is that the Johnson girl?" he asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

Montague groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Why did I ever think she'd be safe?" he mumbled.

"Something going on with you two?" Pucey wondered.

"Hey, were those rumors about you and Johnson true?" Higgs asked. "We all thought she was hot in school. Did you two ever get together?"

Montague snarled, brandishing his wand at Higgs' face. "I NEVER did anything with Johnson."

Higgs and Pucey stepped back, shocked by Montague's behavior.

Montague put his wand away, knowing Pucey and Higgs wouldn't try anything. Bending down, he delicately picked up the girl and Apparated back to his tent.

Adrian and Terence looked at each other before shrugging. Casting spells to mask their presence, the two took one last look around to clear the area before they, too, Apparated back to base.

Montague set the woman down on the bed and stared at her. He had known something would happen once he went down that alleyway. And for some reason, he had avoided healing her until she was the very last one.

Reluctantly, Montague lay down on the other side of the bed, facing her.

"Why do you always find me, Angel?" he murmured as he succumbed to sleep. They could work this out in the morning.

Her eyes flew open as soon as his closed. "Oh, Graham," she muttered, before she even saw him. Shocked, she blushed. Then, she smiled as she kissed him. "You're always saving me. Thank you."

They woke the next morning with a blissful, content feeling. They knew they were in the safest place in the world. With each other.


	36. Smell

Prompt 036. Smell

Word Count: 530

* * *

The building had once been a tall, proud mansion home to a large family. Now, it was reduced to a wreck of rubble, burnt rubbish and a tangled mess of body parts and untouched furniture. The freshly cast Dark Mark hung high in the sky as an ominous warning.

He wrinkled his nose with disgust as he walked through the charred archway. He hoped that she would have had the sense to run, to escape the Dark Lord's wrath while she could. But standing here in the place of her childhood, he knew she had stayed to fight.

He groaned and kicked at the piles of homely comforts that meant warmth anywhere else but there. He found a charred arm under one table and a dead child in the dining room. He came across bits of her father in the study of the ground floor and found the rest of him on the stairs. The first floor held the bodies of her remaining siblings. He covered his mouth in horror at the carnage.

He opened the door to her mother's bedroom and saw the woman lying on the bed. Her body had clearly been violated right before she died. Feeling sick to his stomach, he quickly shut the door before heading towards the upper levels of the house.

After retching for an eternity and a half, he finally came upon her wing of the house. Since she was the oldest girl, she had been given a separate bedroom and bathroom from her sisters and brothers. It was meant as a rite of passage. It had been given with the intention that she could prepare herself for balls and courting much more easily if she had her own quarters.

The scent of death hung in the air. Afraid he would find she met the same end as her family, he hesitated, unsure if he should enter. He lingered in the doorway until he heard a faint gasp. Leaping forwards as if propelled by some higher power, he hurried to rescue her body from the wooden beams and other debris that littered the area.

Her eyes were half open when he finally dragged her out. Upon seeing he was her savior, she smiled.

"Lilies and sexiness - I'd know that cologne anywhere," she teased him. It was an old joke from their school days.

He smiled, relieved and overjoyed to have found her alive. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly they didn't realize they were both crying until their eyes met.

He pulled her in for a kiss and she snuggled into his warmth.

"Okay, now that our sweaty, tearful snogging session is over, let's get you washed," he said, releasing her lips. "I think someone needs to get the smell of sawdust and glue off their skin." He smirked to let her know he was joking.

She scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out playfully, like how she used to when they were kids. "Well, at least I'm not the one who smells of blood and flowers," she remarked disdainfully, wiggling her nose.

They laughed, glad to be given a moment in time together.

* * *

Revised this after several typos and other authorial powers I can command here, yaddi-yadda, etc. y'all get the point (:


	37. Sound

Prompt: 037. Sound

Word Count: 175

* * *

Without turning around, he knew whose voice it was. Everything from the slight lilt in her accent to her tone told him it was her.

She could discern his deep voice in a crowd. It seemed to be her special talent.

He always knew when she lied. Her voice slightly wavered towards the end of her sentences. He laughed at her and told her to quit trying while she was ahead. She'd respond by hitting him playfully before admitting the truth with a smile.

She trusted him wholeheartedly. He would never lie to her face. Instead, he evaded certain truths with his smooth tongue that dripped words like honey. She believed him every time.

He loved her laugh. She hated his snickering.

She loved his seductive tones. He hated her whining pout.

They would search the world for the one voice that spoke to their hearts.

He would give anything in the world so he would never hear her scream.

She would give up everything to hear him say "_I love you_" every day.


	38. Touch

Prompt 038. Touch

Word Count: 734

* * *

"Here." A glass was pressed into her hands. Without question, she drank the free alcohol.

"Thank you," she said without looking up at him.

"I thought you might need it. Although, I must say, you look ravishing tonight."

She blushed faintly. "Thank you again." Her voice was light and airy.

"Don't you want to know who I am?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"Not really. Is it important?" she wondered, mystified by her own nonchalance.

"Not really."

They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Would you care to dance?" He held out a hand.

After a few moments, she looked up at him and stared.

"Mont - Montague?" she asked, wide eyes blinking rapidly.

"The one and only."

If her skin had been fairer, she would definitely have paled. As it was, she merely looked surprised.

"Um, I dunno," she whispered. Shame and embarrassment took over her countenance.

"Come on, no one will notice." He touched her elbow gently, as if afraid she would disappear.

"All right then," she decided, drinking the rest of her spiked punch in one gulp. "Let's."

They danced and she marveled at his elegance. She was surprised by how well he seemed to belong on the dance floor. She looked down and could only wish she was half as good a partner. He made dancing look easy!

"Don't worry," he whispered, breath tickling her skin as he leaned in. "You're doing just fine. Relax and have fun - it will come naturally enough. Besides, with a marvelous partner like me, you can't fail." He winked at her and she laughed, throwing her head back.

The dance ended and he twirled her around, catching her in his arms. She exhaled loudly, feeling a bit out of breath.

"Need another drink?" he asked, worried he had made her dizzy.

"I'm all right, I think. I just need a breather."

He nodded and led her to a bench.

After some time, she carefully studied his figure. He finally noticed and looked back at her, questioningly.

"Don't you have a partner?" she asked at length.

He nodded. "Well, I did. But it seems she was taken by Nott. So I didn't until you arrived."

She frowned but accepted his story.

He fidgeted and finally asked, "Are you here with someone?"

"No," she said quickly.

"So your dance card is free?" he inquired.

She smirked. "Quite free."

"Oh, that's too bad," he teased.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was going to ask you for another dance, but if you're not inclined to, I fully understand."

"I never said no," she replied bravely.

"I wondered where that Gryffindor courage had got to. Would you honor me, my fair lady, with another dance?"

He mockingly curtseyed while waggling his eyebrows at her. She giggled and accepted his hand once again.

"Why, yes, good sir, I believe I may be able to dance again."

They teased each other as they spun around the room. Their light banter brightened her mood and made her glad that she had decided to attend her last Yule Ball at Hogwarts castle.

At midnight, the Great Hall was cleared and Montague led Angelina outside. The pair stood under the moonlight and he wrapped his arms around her so she wouldn't feel the chill.

"I hope you had a good evening."

"And here I thought only the Gryffs were sentimental," she smirked.

"Well, a gentleman must make sure his lady is satisfied."

"The night went well, she says," Angelina teased.

He pretended to be affronted. "Is there something more that he could have done to please her?"

"The lady would appreciate a goodnight kiss from her knight in white armor."

"Is that all?" he mused, turned on by her words.

"And the lady wonders who her savior is, for she did not think he was like this before." Her voice was honest and soft, all playfulness gone.

Montague leaned down and kissed her. He felt like he was kissing a bubble.

"This is the man who has sought out his lady for many years," he confessed as he pulled back.

"And this lady would like to say that she longs for another kiss," she admitted, wrapping her arms around him to bring him closer to her.

Their lips met again and this time they felt a flood of emotion as skin met skin.

* * *

I made some changes because I felt like it and this piece became shorter. Sometimes, less is more. Hopefully this piece didn't undergo a change in soul as well as body since I basically did the equivalent of a face lift. Most of the changes were cosmetic: personal preference. But some were purely grammatical.

Here's to hoping others will celebrate this lovely pair, too. (:


	39. Taste

Prompt: 039. Taste

Word Count: 250

* * *

"Breakfast?" he asked.

She looked up from her coffee, staring pointedly at him.

"Okay, no to breakfast."

He bustled around, making an egg with toast.

She made another cup of coffee as he watched her walking around his kitchen in nothing but her lingerie. She had been too tired to put on real clothes.

"I could get used to this sight," he teased.

She nodded her head, still too sleepy to speak.

"All right, love, what's wrong?" he asked, walking up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist.

She shook her head as she poured milk and added a cube of sugar to her beloved coffee.

He kissed the side of her jaw and worked his way down her neck to her collarbone. She enjoyed his touch as she sipped her morning brew.

"Mmhmm," she sighed, eyes closed. She unconsciously leaned back against him.

He laughed and nuzzled her shoulder. "I knew you'd wake up!"

She laughed along with him and drew him in for a kiss.

"You taste like sugar," he teased.

"You taste like toast," she threw back, licking the crumbs off his lips.

They stood looking at each other before once more collapsing into fits of laughter. He threw his robe around her shoulders as they resumed their morning routine.

Their children would never understand why Mummy and Daddy insisted on this unusual morning ritual.

Darren Montague made a face while Kyra sighed.

Graham kissed his wife and Angelina knew she was home.


	40. Sight

Prompt: 040. Sight

Word Count: 755

* * *

"I'll have five chocolate frogs, three pumpkin pasties, and four licorice wands," Angelina said to the trolley lady. Gathering her snacks, Angelina turned around and bumped into a tall figure.

"Mmpphhh!" Angelina's voice came out muffled. She took a half step back and looked up into a pair of sapphire blue eyes. Gulping audibly, her face turned into an expression of fear as she tried to give a lopsided smile.

"Well, look here, it's a little Gryff," he teased, leaning back.

She stared at him, unable to speak.

"Cat got your tongue, girl?" he asked, leaning forward slightly so he could lower his voice.

She shivered a little at his breath and tried to move past him. He blocked her easily and wrapped an arm around her. As her hands were full, it was easy for him to pull her in close.

"Not so fast, Johnson," he hissed.

She squirmed a little in his grasp. "Montague! What do you want? Let me go!" Her tone was angry.

"Now, now, little lion. Not so fast," he reprimanded, shaking his head at her.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you. I didn't notice you right behind me. Are we good now?" she asked tiredly.

"What do I get as an apology?" he leered at her.

She rolled her eyes. Quickly, she leaned up and kissed him before dashing down the hallway.

"Good girl."

xXx

"He, he, he want-ted me t-t-to kis-s-s him!" Angelina wailed into her friend's shirt.

"Oh, Ange!" Alicia comforted her bestest friend in the world. "It's okay. Everything'll be fine."

"No it won't!" Angelina yelled, sobs racking her body.

After several minutes, Angelina settled down and her body stopped shaking. Wiping her face and nose, she smiled at Alicia. "Thanks."

"What are friends for?" Alicia weakly smiled back.

They shared their food and decided to change into their robes as they saw the sun was starting to set.

"Hey, Ang, do you think he could be the one?" Alicia asked.

"Who?" Angelina quickly spun around.

"You know," Alicia looked around surreptitiously. "Mont?"

"No way! Uh-uh!" She shook her head vehemently.

"Oh, well, I was just wondering," Alicia said, sheepishly. "He does seem to like you an awful lot."

"Montague? Like me? Are we talking about the same Graham Montague, Alicia?" Angelina asked, eyes full of disbelief.

"It was just a thought. He does have those dashing blue eyes and the physique of a prince," Alicia said shyly.

Angelina gagged and thought, _Never in a million years!_

xXx

Montague sighed and passed a hand through his hair.

"What's up?" Cody Warrington asked his best friend.

"What? Nothing," Montague insisted, turning to look out the window.

"Bull. We're best friends. Tell me," Cody urged.

Montague sighed and nodded. "I just saw Johnson."

"Oh," Cody replied, going back to his magazine. "Is that all?"

Montague sighed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Cody silently turned a page.

"And, well, she kissed me," Montague admitted.

"She what?!" Cody put down his mag. "Graham, when Angelina Johnson kisses you, you're supposed to tell! What was it like?"

Montague stared at his friend as if Cody had two heads. "It wasn't a great kiss."

Cody hit Graham's arm lightly. "Aw, come on. There's got to be more to this story than that."

Montague admitted as much and told his friend the whole story.

Warrington laid back in his seat. "Ah, the tension! I can feel it! This sounds like a trashy half-penny novel. Just tell her you like her and get it out of your system."

Montague grunted and returned to looking out the window.

Cody moved over to Graham's side of the compartment. "Oh, I see how it is. Does Graham have a crushy-wushy on Angewina?" Warrington asked, using a cutesy, teasing voice reminiscent of a five-year old.

Graham pushed Warrington away from him. "Nah, it's not like that," he insisted.

"Hmm, so what is it? Is it true love? Love at first sight? Is she the princess you wish to rescue from a high tower that is guarded by fiery beasts?"

"That's one way to talk about the Gryffindor Tower," Montague joked.

"Ah! Young love!" Warrington teased, batting his eyelashes and putting the back of his hand to his forehead.

"Get a grip, Cody!" Montague growled, gritting his teeth.

Warrington mockingly 'fainted' onto Montague, sighing like a bad imitation of a teenage girl in love.

* * *

I made up Warrington's first name as he's only mentioned as C. Warrington. I like the name Cody. No idea why else I chose it, so there's really no reason other than I like the name. haha

I like to think Montague and his friends can have humorous moments as well. Slytherin boys are still boys - I doubt they're not all uptight when they're by themselves. ^^

But feel free to imagine them differently in your own fics. :)


	41. Shapes

Prompt: 041. Shapes

Word Count: 265

* * *

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

"That's boring, Lee!" a girl piped up, indignantly.

"Fine!" Lee yelled back. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah! How about the story of how Angie met Graham?" a red-head suggested.

"Don't you dare, George Weasley!" Angelina threatened the boy, throwing a pillow his way.

He caught the pillow with a charming smile. "I'm Fred."

"No, you're George," she scoffed. "You can't fool me. Or do you need to be reminded what you look like as a box-shaped pie?" Angelina's voice became very low.

George paled and shut up.

"Good Georgie Porgie!" Angelina cooed, laughing at the redhead's expression.

"'Georgie Porgie, puddin' 'n' pie,'" Fred teased.

"Now don't you start that, twin!" George yelled, face turning red.

"Aww! Is little Georgie upset?" Fred asked, playfully.

Alicia smacked Fred in the face.

"Ow! Leesh! What was that for?" Fred asked, shocked that his friend would do that.

"Boys, be nice," Alicia warned, smirking at them.

Montague placed a hand around Angelina. "So, mind telling that story about the box-shaped Weasel?"

Everyone laughed as Angelina recounted how she had played a prank on the Weasley twins.

"And to this day, Fred and George haven't asked me to be a victim again," Angelina said proudly.

"Hey!" George complained.

"We are doing very well," Fred insisted.

"Right, right, we love you both," Katie said, shaking her head.

"Yes, you do!" the twins said together.

"As boxes!" Katie burst out laughing.

The twins frowned as everyone erupted into fits of giggles.

* * *

I think this collection proves the instability of my mind... o.o lol

Sooooo if anyone has any comments for improvement, I'm all ears :)

(And no, please don't box my ears ^^ hehe I couldn't resist) xD


	42. Triangle

For Ebony58,  
Thank you for your continued support. I do apologize I did not get this up sooner. I admit it took me quite awhile to come up with this. I am in a bit of a rut myself, and I realize my writings have become increasingly more depressing. I hope to remedy that in the following posts, but I guess my fickle muse shall dictate that and I'll just find out as I continue writing!

I hope you enjoy this prompt and my comments, although as usual, feel free to flame, enjoy or remain silent. Whatever floats your boat is just peachy to me. :)

* * *

Prompt: 042. Triangle  
Word Count: 317

* * *

Theirs was no Romeo and Juliet love affair.

They had passion and they had the beauty of youth. They made quite the couple on the cover of _Witch Weekly_ and _The Daily Prophet_.

No one thought it would last.

She was happy with him and he couldn't have chosen a more beautiful wife. Even if they had both gone through with an arranged marriage, as their pureblood pedigree often dictated, they could not have chosen a more suitable partner. They fit each other so well, everyone forgot they came from rival Houses.

All the same, theirs was no Romeo and Juliet fairytale.

xXx

It happened so suddenly. Everyone suspected foul play, although nothing could be proved.

He had been so tall and strong, a stalwart companion. A bastion of strength. He was unequaled in fitness and health.

And yet he was dead. An accident, they called it.

She was the image of the perfect widow, adorned in black lace and pretty black scarves. She wore a fitted cap with a veil that covered her face as the tears slid down in slow rivulets. She wore no makeup - a beauty of her caliber did not need any decoration.

The tabloids were filled with articles on the star Chasers' tragic tale.

xXx

Soon after, she, too, met her end. A fatal head wound incurred during a Quidditch match. It was put down to a Bludger, but no one could verify when and how she had been hit. No one had noticed anything amiss until her body collapsed on the ground. And by then, it was too late to save her.

Katie Bell and Marcus Flint knew the truth behind their friends' deaths. Triangles, especially love triangles, were always doomed. Even the good books say it is so.

With heavy hearts, the two rivals put aside their differences for a day as they buried their Angel with her Montague.


	43. Square

Prompt: 043. Square  
Word Count: 226

* * *

They were like a round peg and a square hole. They did not match in any way. And yet, they managed to look so good together.

Not that he would admit to it. After all, he never said that. Alicia Spinnet had said so.

Although he had grunted a reply, deep down he wished she hadn't said that. It made it that much harder to think badly of him when his subconscious teased him about how damn well they matched.

They came from different backgrounds. He came from a line of wealthy purebloods, all of whom had ties with the Dark Lord, or so it was rumored. She was a mixed blood family. Her father was a professor at the London School of Economics. Her mother was a respectable witch.

And now, they were all leaving the safety of Hogwarts. The pureblood idiot was whisking her away and he could do nothing to stop her. The pompous cad was stealing his angel.

No one would have believed that they were the round peg and the square hole. Not Angelina and Fred, the Hogwarts couple of the year.

So there he stood in Diagon Alley, watching his love vanish around the corner like a summer daydream.

And he, the real idiot, was the one who was like a round peg and a square hole to her.

* * *

No offense to anyone, but I really didn't like the whole Angelina/Fred, Angelina/George thing. Maybe it's just me, but in my opinion, too many Gryffindors married fellow Gryffindors. Hence this little plot bunny snapshot.

If this is in any way confusing, that is the intent: the vague narrator and the vague idea of subjects. I tried to discern between the two (or three, if you like) men, so it's really up to you who is who. I gave some indication near the end who loses out, but whether you'd prefer Fred or George as the narrator, take your pic. xD

(Or even Lee, if that's your fancy. The last line is the real vague clincher that allows for anything to happen here. Take an idea and run with it. Go write your own story if you're so inspired.) :)


	44. Circle

Prompt 044. Circle

Word Count: 118

* * *

She stood in the rain. She was barefoot. Somewhere in the changing rooms her raincoat and umbrella lay on the ground, discarded and unwanted.

She enjoyed the feel of mud squelching between her toes. She appreciated the raindrops as they fell on her skin. Never mind her hair - she could deal with that later.

And that's how he found her. Outside. In the rain.

He often wondered when their cat and mouse game would end.

But today, on the anniversary marking death and sadness, she needed a savior.

And, like always, he would be what she wanted. What she needed. Because, God help him, he loved her. And anything, even meaningless circles, were preferable to her tears.

* * *

I am aware that it seems an age since I was last here. So this is my first attempt now that I'm back. For now... lol (:


	45. Moon

For 10ShizukaYuukiMistress10,

Thank you for your reviews & support! (:

I have not forgotten this writing and can only hope you enjoy these drabbles as well.

* * *

Prompt 045. Moon

Word Count: 266

* * *

Little Angelina was not very little. She was tall and thin - all sharp angles with barely a curve to her. Even her lips formed a straight line.

Little Graham was not very happy. He had no siblings, being the single male heir to the Montague line.

Angelina's siblings were all older than her, which is why they called her 'Little Angie.' As annoying as the nickname Angie was, the solitude bothered her most. All of her siblings had something to do during the day, while she was mostly left on her own.

Until the day Angie met Graham. A day the Johnson family would never forget.

What commemorated the occasion were Little Kates' words: "They're as pretty as the sun and the moon together." Little Kates was twenty-four.

Angie stuck her tongue out. "Well then, Monty must be the moon."

Graham scowled. "Don't call me that!"

"Monty Moon!" Angie teased.

"Angel Sun!" Graham shot back.

"Angel, hmm," Angie said, distracted. "I like it! Graham, we can be friends." She grinned at him with her infectious good-humor.

"Okay," Graham replied.

"Just like the sun and moon, huh?" Aunt Lisbeth mused. "Yep, I can see that resemblance. Come on, Little Kates."

"Hey, Angel, look at the moon!" Graham pointed towards the sky.

"Monty, the sun's still shining. The moon can't possibly be visible," Angie protested.

"Don't believe me, if you like. But it's there all the same."

And sure enough, when she looked up at the sky, the sun and the moon were dancing together against a lavender horizon.

* * *

I know, disgustingly cute. But at least it's not depressing xD


End file.
